Monday, July 17, 2017

Reading about guns every day, and -- of course -- seeing them on TV and in films as instruments of redemption. The perennially armed cops in the US are already heading to fatal shootings in excess of one thousand before the end of 2017; and there is the development of the Redneck Revolutionary movement -- supposedly antifascist -- in which ostensibly antiracist white people remain rooted in, and celebrate, gun culture. "Racism no - Guns yes" is their mantra apparently.

American culture is Baudrillard on steroids and acid. The simulacra has taken over as we withdraw into our electronic life-support and hallucination dens. We come to believe that what we read and see in audiovisual media is true, in part because we have eschewed real experience as too troublesome or risky. We need a reality check on guns.

I was a gunfighter once. Really, I mean it. I was a member of the Army's "counterterrorist" direct action outfit in Ft. Bragg; and the main skill we developed for what were called "surgical operations" like hostage rescue, etc., was marksmanship and close-quarter (gun) battle (CQB). I worked both as an assaulter -- the guys who enter the room -- and a sniper -- the guys who cover the crisis site from without using precision rifles. We really learned our guns. As an assaulter, it was nothing to spend endless hours and thousands upon thousands of rounds of ammunition from our submachine guns and sidearms to achieve the high levels of accuracy required to enter a closed space with our comrades, hostages, and "bad guys," and to be confident that we could place our shots into a five inch circle in a fraction of a second. This practice took a great deal of time and it cost a great deal of money (not our money, but tax revenues). Way more time and money than most people have, even most people who have guns.

We thought about ammunition a great deal, especially how it passes through targets (terminal ballistics) and ricochets. Because, if you are supposed to be ready to rescue hostages, it kind of defeats the purpose if you shoot the "bad guy" and the bullet passes through him and enters the body of a rescu-ee. This was a special concern for aircraft hijacking scenarios, because everyone is lined up tightly in seats like human sardines. One's shooting sector is a long, linear tube.

We decided to test ammunition, and we spent a week testing it at an "aircraft graveyard" in the Arizona desert. Terminal ballistics were tested using gelatin blocks to simulate human bodies. We made gelatin blocks that were body-sized, gelatin blocks that were super-sized, and even gelatin blocks that were supplemented with ribs from a local butcher. We lined up the blocks in frames on aircraft seats, in frames that were lined up outside, and in frames that were separated by variable distances. And we shot them, again and again, photographing and recording data along the way.

We found that the most common pistol round (and our submachine gun rounds), the 9mm, when fired from various pistols, would pass through around three blocks and seat backs before coming to rest in the fourth gelatin block. Okay, this was not so good. Fortunately then, our own standard sidearms were souped-up M1911 45 calibers, that fired a fatter, slower round than the 9mm; and when we tested the 45s, they only went through one block, one seat back, and partway into the next block. Combining this subsonic round with careful shot placement (in split seconds) might at least minimize collateral damage. Shotguns were better the lighter the load, so the 00 buckshot that was our standard went into a second block, whereas the substitution of #6 or smaller "birdshot" kept the projectiles in the first block unless one was almost at point blank range.

Cops use 9mm ammunition for the most part. Assault rifles as long guns (usually 5.56mm or .223 caliber), and 00 buckshot in their shotguns (they also have "bean bag" loads for "riots"). Gun nuts like assault rifles and 9mm or other hot (supersonic) loads for their sidearms. NRA type gun nuts love to talk about the technics and ballistics; and they fantasize about killing home intruders, rescuing white damsels, fighting bad governments in the woods, and shooting black people, "Mexicans," and-or Muslims. Go to guns shows and shooting events, and they talk about this shit quite openly. Now we have the Redneck Revolutionaries, who may have different fantasy targets, but they are still mostly boys who can't relinquish the fantasy of proving their manhood by shooting "the bad men" (in the fantasies, the targets are mostly men, because killing men is more probative of masculinity than shooting women). Then they are caught in a camera angle from below, sun on their faces, wind blowing their hair, True Heroes.

Because they are fantasists and paranoids, gun nuts are looking for a fight; and the immediate possession of a gun, carrying that is, amplifies this pugnaciousness . . . a lot. The quest for masculinity is fundamentally predicated on (deep, unconscious, sexual) fear, and the possession of a firearm is not merely an antidote to fear; it generates that belligerent "courage" that can only originate from a deep, unconscious fear. So guns don't only make people physically more dangerous; they make people psychologically far more dangerous.

An armed society is not a polite society. An armed society is a dangerously stupid society. I'm not talking about hunters in Canada or Iceland who keep a deer rifle in the closet. I'm talking about the exploding mass of sexually-insecure white males who are carrying their Sig Sauers and Berettas into Walmarts and Krogers and middle schools to pick up their kids. At the most extreme, the Preppers -- Lord, have mercy, who are armed to the teeth even as they've lost their minds.

I've proposed elsewhere that Just War theories lost their raison d'etre with the advent of modern war, in no small part because automatic weapons, cannon fire, and bombs of all sorts cannot distinguish friend from foe, and even were they able to, their impact areas/bursting radii are too large to use these weapons without accepting in advance that they will kill bystanders. And soldiers inevitably kill civilians on purpose; but we'll stay with bystander casualties.

In World War I, 7 million combatants died alongside 6.6 million civilians. Fatality counts exclude the even larger numbers of combatants and civilians who are injured, often in ways that cause permanent suffering and disability. In World War II, some 70 million died, and even excluding the ethnic cleansing campaigns, bystander deaths outnumbered combatant deaths by nearly three to one. Sixty-seven percent of Korean War casualties were civilians, and with Allied operations against the North, North Korea lost fully twenty percent of its total population. Around 2 million Vietnamese civilians were killed during the US invasion and occupation, compared to around half that number in combatants. Four out of every five casualties in Afghanistan since 2001 have been civilians; and two of every three casualties in Iraq since the 2003 invasion have been non-combatants. Drone strikes, which are called "surgical," kill ten non-combatants for every combatant -- if you believe the remote operators can really distinguish such a thing through a flying camera. So there's my point, in brief, about "just" war.

My point about guns is similar, if on a smaller scale. Modern rifled firearms and, at close range, shoguns have been refined toward a telos of ever-increasing efficacy -- and by efficacy, we mean lethality at various ranges. They are designed for the instant destruction of tissue sufficient to cause death.

In 2011, there were around 34,000 fatalities from firearms and around 74,000 non-fatal injuries in the US. We use guns in 67 percent of homicides, 50 percent of suicides, 43 percent of robberies, and 21 percent of aggravated assaults. I myself survived eight conflict areas in the Army without sustaining a gunshot wound, and was finally shot outside a bar in 1991 in Hot Springs, Arkansas. These statistics can be deceiving, because when we compare homicides with suicides, the percentages lie.

We kill ourselves more often than we kill others here, and 60 percent of suicides use firearms. Suicides account for 65 percent of suicide deaths -- in part because the shooting is more accurate, and in part because successful suicides, while the numbers compared to attempts are unknown, have a high correspondence to the method used. Firearms, at above 80 percent as far as we know, are the absolute most successful method. So, all other things being equal, a firearm in the house dramatically increases the odds that it will be used for some confused, sick, broken, humiliated, and-or lonely person to extinguish themselves. In 2013, 41,149 were successful -- men far more than women, because men choose firearms, naturally. By comparison, just over a thousand home invasions were repelled by the threat of a firearm, and actual burglary-homicides in the US are around 100 a year nationwide. Do the math. You are quite a bit more likely to have a suicidal person among family or friends in the house than a lethal burglar.

Or kids. We kill more kids per capita with guns than any country in the world, and around 320 kids are snuffed out each year here in home gun accidents, more than three times the probability of repelling an actual homicidal intruder with a gun. (Not to forget, if your home is intruded upon by a killer -- which is about twice as likely as being killed by lightning -- the best course of action is to leave and call 911. Burglars look for guns, because they have a great resale value.)

All that aside now, however, let's get down to the creepy business of what exactly gunshots do. A contained explosion sends missiles down a barrel at speeds that can go through the average elm tree. When a bullet hits a body, it doesn't simply punch a hole and slice through a tiny column of skin, organ tissue, bone, etc. At high velocity, projectiles have brand new physical properties. Three of the immediate outcomes are in-flight deviation, distortion of the projectile, and cavitation. The projectile begins responding to its environment as soon as it leaves the barrel -- so it might tail-drop ("yaw"), or wobble, or turn. The projectile is distorted by the impact with material (like the flesh and bone of a human being) and loses its sleek, perfect cylindricality. The projectile pushes a shock wave through the air around its flight path which enters the body and tears through the tissues surrounding the bullet path in a millisecond "cavity," leaving behind extensive damage not only along the path, but through tissues distal to the path. That's why entry wounds can be quite small, but exit wounds can look like bomb craters in meat. If it hits the upper arm, for example, it might break the bone without ever touching is, or tear up the brachial artery (fatal), or destroy large amounts of muscle tissue (resulting in shock, future infections, permanent disability). A small caliber, subsonic round like a 22 might leave the gun your three-year-old has found, enter the head of your eight-year-old, then ricochet around inside the skull until all its kinetic energy is gone. In a nanosecond. No do-overs.

All this is true if you've just shot Hannibal Lecter; but it is equally true if you missed old Hannibal and the bullet passed through a sheetrock wall and hit the lawyer Hannibal has tied up in the next room for tonight's dinner. Or you may shoot at that fourteen-year-old heroin-addicted home intruder, miss the bad child, have the bullet strike your stone veneer, ricochet, and end up in the lumbar spine of your niece whose come to visit and sleeps in the spare bedroom. If you fire ten times, maybe you can hit the bad child, too, and punish the kid-burglary by blowing holes in his skull and abdomen. That should make you feel better.

By the way, they don't show this kind of stuff in TV dramas and boyflix.

Even if you are a crack shot at the range where you hang out with your buddies and talk about how you'll "double-tap" the bad guys, when something actually happens that provokes you to draw your weapon (instead of the smart thing to do when there is danger, which is to haul ass out of there . . . but the gun has made you stupid as shit now), another person will not be standing still like a target in good light with a range master to ensure no one is downrange when you fire. You cannot, not under any circumstances, guarantee that you will not miss, that you will not hit a bystander, that you will not overreact. And for that reason, NO ONE should be allowed to carry firearms around with them, because they are already, knowingly or not, accepted that they might shoot someone unintentionally. I include cops in this calculus. Why are cops so brave in other countries that they can walk around unarmed except for a baton, some Mace, and maybe a hand taser?

Anyone who calls oneself a Christian and carries a firearm -- given what I just pointed out about our absolute inability to control outcomes in the employment of firearms -- ought to be ashamed and turn in your credentials. You cannot follow Jesus with a Glock in your belt. I'm sorry. Just not possible.

No matter what cockamamie scenario you construct to justify carrying a gun (not talking about someone hunting) for "protection," you cannot escape the reality of this inability to control what happens when a firearm is used, because you cannot predict the circumstances of its use.

You penises will not fall off when you refuse to carry. And you are far less likely to have that unpredictable instant that saddles you with a lifetime of regret.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Universities, like many institutions, are, beneath their
orderly veneer, sites of constant low intensity warfare. More so, perhaps,
because they deal in ideas, and human beings are correctively ordered in practical pursuits by the immovable
necessities of particular practices; but ideas are inflected by personal
psychology and a plurality of ideological commitments, neither of which is
anchored by practical necessity. I garden and fish, for example, and if I don’t
use the right soil and amendments or the right bait and technique, I get practical
feedback in the form of failure. But we can cling to many faulty, even bizarre,
ideas for quite some time, especially in universities, because some of these ideas
are never tested except within the framework of other ideas; and in a
pluralistic culture like ours, we have generated multiple frameworks with
premises that are so incommensurable with one another that—in the absence of
any ultimate authority for appeal—no resolution to conflicts is even possible.
And so the low intensity warfare in universities takes the form of sniping
through various media, character assassination, and the mobilization of cliques.

I know two people, whose names and institution I will not
cite, one of whom is engaging in this form of warfare against another over the
subject of military veterans. I’ll call them (androgynously) Pat and Gale. Pat
is a graduate fellow and a veteran, who has organized a group of veterans on campus.
Gale is an Ethics professor, never in the military, who is active in the
opposition to drone warfare and torture. Both claim to be opposed to war, their
pacifism rooted in Christian faith. Pat has had issues with Gale for quite some
time, based on Pat’s belief that non-veterans can never speak of veterans, and
Pat’s further belief that veterans are the only people who can speak with
enough authority on the topics of war and peace to “lead” these public
conversations. Gale disagrees. Recently Pat took one of Gale’s tweets from a
conference on war out of context, and made the claim that Gale was guilty of “cultural
appropriating” veterans.

The Gale tweet: “There is a gnosis of violence going on . .
. The notion that combat vets ‘know’ is not good for vets.”

Context: Gnosticism is an insider term among Christians (like
myself) that applies to a particular heresy which claims that redemption is
achieved by acquiring ever more esoteric (“higher”) forms of “knowledge” which progressively
liberate the divine spark. So what Gale tweeted might be translated as: There
is an idea that being a former combat soldier is the highest form of knowledge
about war; and this mistaken notion is not helpful for the actual human beings
who happen to be military veterans (most of whom, by the way, are not “combat”
vets). What they need is what the rest of us need: jobs, decent housing, health
care, maybe some education and training, and—from my own perspective—some life
skills that help them break a lot of military habits and a dependence on
veteran-esteem.

The tortured argument that Pat published in a university
veteran blog (mobilizing Pat’s clique) can be summarized as “veterans
constitute a culture, a culture that is equivalent to that of, say, African
Americans; and this tweet is an attempt to ‘appropriate’ the ‘voice’ of veterans,
so it is an instance of cultural appropriation.” Which is absurd. I’m sorry, it
just is. And it is a completely uncharitable misreading of what Gale was tweeting about.

But I’ve had this conversation with Pat myself, on more than
one occasion, and it needs a little background. Not the conversation about “cultural
appropriation,” per se, but the one
where veterans are some uniquely oppressed class of people, which Pat claims,
and with which I emphatically—as another veteran—disagree. If anything, what is
being appropriated in all this is the history of genuine oppression by a
uniquely entitled class of people—which we veterans are—and in this case by a
white veteran (Pat is white). Somehow, Pat claims, this tweet is “the standard pacifist justification of credibility
regarding any event about ‘war’ which invites participation by academic[s],’ whose expertise
derives exclusively from having ‘written about’ a subject with which they have
no ‘first hand’ experience.” As in conversations I have had with Pat
myself, for a pacifist, he has never had a good word to say about other
pacifists. Pat’s first hand experience in Iraq was in the Artillery branch, and
we’ll come back to why that is important.

Pat honestly believes that
being a veteran, whatever kind of veteran, who served in a conflict theater, in
whatever capacity, is the distinctive qualification for “leading” (he uses this
term) any discussion of war. In our own conversations, Pat explained to me that
he still missed and admired the camaraderie and shared hardships of military
life; and he has taken a page from Alasdair MacIntyre’s most ill-advised passing
reference to the military as a site of distinctively Aristotelian virtue—the military
as a polis, governed by particular
ideas of honor and integrity. He misses that cohesiveness, and believes that
this is the salvageable kernel of value that can be rescued from the uglier
business of what the American military is actually organized to do. Pat
actually teaches a class called “Virtues of War.” I reminded him during our
conversation about this that this is the experience of many kinds of collective
living, not just the military, but—for example—monastic life, women’s land,
firefighters, communes, earlier societies, and so forth.

This is a little like saying that the only people who are
qualified to speak about capitalism are production line workers, because they
are at that point where the rubber meets the proverbial road. It’s a preposterous
notion on its face, and a bald attempt to humiliate, marginalize, and silence
anyone who questions the somehow-exclusive authority of veterans to speak about
war.

How is the “first hand” experience of an Artillery soldier
the same—apart from the greater institutional culture that prevails prior to
the initiation of hostilities—as that of an infantry soldier or military police
prison guard or an office-bound intelligence analyst or a personnel clerk or a vehicle
mechanic or a hospital worker? Do people seriously believe that there is one
homogenous “first hand” experience of War, even among one set of imperial soldiers
in one theater, apart from General Orders, rank structure, and grotesque
ignorance of the people they occupy and attempt to control? Can the abused wife
of a soldier who has been formed by the (violently misogynistic) culture of the
military speak on war? Can the historian speak on war? When I was in Vietnam as
a nineteen-year-old, drug-addled grunt, was I more qualified to speak about the
causes of the war than some (ick) academic who had studied the history of the
conflict but eschewed participation? What about the people who are occupied, bullied,
wounded, and killed by soldiers? What about the people who make the weapons?
You see how perfectly imperfect this generalization of “the first hand
experience of war” is, when you begin to appreciate how complex and
far-reaching is the phenomenon of war itself.

Are we talking about danger? About the risks of service
giving someone a special claim to authority? If so, then before we list
veterans, we need to list loggers, fisherman, and power line workers who die
with greater frequency than soldiers, even during the last decade and a half of
high-intensity military occupations. Roofers die at the same rate as the
military (even when you include military suicides, which are more common among
non-combatant soldiers and veterans that combatants), and for a lot lower pay.
But we don’t see Roofers Day parades or statues of fallen power line workers, or bridges named after loggers and fishermen. In terms of job-related disability, home health workers
are far worse off than military veterans. And even in the military, there is a
hierarchy of risk. Explosives Ordinance Disposal (EOD) is the best job per
capita for being killed at work, followed by Special Operations, combat medic,
supply truck driver (since Iraq, when our war victims learned to use mechanical
ambushes), infantry, rescue swimmer, and helicopter pilot. Does this mean that EOD
is the best-qualified to speak about war, even if the technician has no clue
about how he or she ended up in Iraq or Afghanistan or Syria?

Am I allowed to say, as a veteran, just how full of shit
many veterans are? Or what kinds of scuttlebutt makes its way through military
barracks? Or how many, and often ridiculous, ways the “first hand” experience
of veterans in conflict areas is interpreted by the participants? Or how many
Wrong Beliefs these kids have about what they are doing, why they are doing it,
and who they are doing it to?

At the full-of-shit desk, standing tall at the front of the
line, is PTSD! While there are a few people who suffer from post-traumatic
stress in ways that create debilitating problems in their lives, including
people who are not veterans, you can’t throw a rock nowadays without hitting
some vet who claims the disability (and a bumper crop of shrinks willing to
make the diagnosis for disability claims). It is almost a status symbol, yielding
simultaneous sympathy and admiration for the mentally-wounded “hero,” and . . .
oh, by the way, gives anyone a ready excuse for being a world-class shit. I’m
disrespectful to women . . . PTSD. I beat my kids and spouse . . . PTSD. I’m a
loud-mouth drunk . . . PTSD. I’m a rapist . . . PTSD. I’m a lazy slug . . .
PTSD. I’m a bully . . . PTSD. I committed armed robbery . . . PTSD. You get
sympathy, admiration, and a get-out-of-jail-free card. What’s the downside?

So what connects this posing/malingering by veterans, the
faulty claim that veterans have some exclusive authority to speak about war, the
nostalgia many veterans feel for their days in uniform, and the way veterans get
special recognition, official and unofficial, for their “sacrifices” (the
military is the highest-paying, highest-benefits job available to most
high-school graduates who qualify)?

C’mon, let’s just say it. Militaristic American nationalism.
And veterans, while they do get the shitty end of the stick on some benefits
(like everyone else in neoliberal, downsizing society), get to cash in on the
status and esteem. I wish fishermen and home health workers got the same deal I
have—as a retired army veteran—for health insurance. And why aren’t roofers
held in such high esteem? They don’t kill anyone or destroy property or spread
pain and grief and devastation in their wake. They do work that keeps us dry
and comfortable. I have been made to sit in a docked plane and wait while those
in uniform were allowed to disembark before the other passengers, and once one
jingo jughead started clapping for the kids in uniform, everyone else felt
obliged to join in (when I didn’t, people looked at me like I just came out of
Fido’s ass).

Pat, going back to our story, supports his claim of cultural
appropriation/oppressed class by noting that “veteran” is a federally protected
status, like women in sports or black people who want to vote or gay folk who
want a job. Really? Veterans need special protection? In fact, what this status
is another perquisite that sets aside
jobs and other benefits specifically for veterans. Anyone ever seen a law that
requires that X percent of your contracting work force be lesbians?

This may at first blush seem strange that I am myself
speaking as a veteran—kind of, everything I am saying is equally valid whoever
says it—but I am not saying veterans ought not to speak of war, peace, et al, only that we should be held to
the same standards as everyone else and not be allowed to get away with talking
out of our asses. Our experiences, while always filtered through many personal
and historical lenses, are important. But the question is, How are they
important? My take is, what we say is important, if what we say is true, as
correctives.

One of the reasons veterans are worshipped in this
militaristic culture is the mystique that surrounds the military, and this
mystique includes a boatload of silly misapprehensions created by military
propaganda, official and unofficial, as well as silly macho stories in books,
television, and film. The collective imagination of the military by those who
are not in the military is one of heroic martial sacrifice, while life in the
actual military is—99.9 percent of the time—bureaucratic piddling and checklisting,
day-to-day drudgery, and many eyes on many clocks waiting to get home and pop
that first beer. Speaking of which, American military home-life is often an
orgy of consumerism. Military towns are now oases of wealth accumulation, where
tens of thousands of young people with well-paying, secure jobs make money rain
on restaurants and bars and lenders and toymakers (adult and child) and
entertainers and the builders of cheap new houses.

Veterans benefit from this mystique, and so there is a tacit
understanding to keep mum about how off the mark it really is.

Susan Jeffords once wrote about “the war story,” that story
of the pathos of one or a few people (usually men) that serves as an “ideological
transmission belt” in support of war, by taking the focus off the geopolitical,
the financial, the structural reasons for wars, and forcing us to identify with
the individual “warrior.” This is precisely what is attempted through the
insistence on the veteran as the ultimate authority on war. If correction is
what veterans can offer to any discussion of war, then the corrections cannot
be more war stories unless the goal is to valorize the warrior and the war.

When I say corrections, I mean just that. Correcting errors.
When someone says the US was protecting the South Vietnamese from aggression, I
can say that the grunts in my unit were encouraged to hate the Vietnamese—all of
them—and to seek any excuse we could find to kill as many of them as we could.
I can say that when I spoke with other grunts from other units, they said the
same thing. When someone calls a battalion a squad, or treats such terms as
interchangeable, or calls all soldiers officers, or doesn’t know the difference
between Special Operations and Special Forces, etc., then I can offer
corrections. In Pat’s case, Pat wrote an article (as a former artillery
soldier) describing snipers as people who kill from several kilometers away, making
them like artillerymen, I can offer a correction. I was a sniper for a time,
and even the trainer for 2nd Battalion, 7th Special
Forces’ sniper. Snipers generally shoot at ranges under 800 meters, more often
half that, and they see what they shoot (one person), unlike artillery which
shoots across the horizon with shells that have bursting radii that can kill
many unseen people. You see how
easily even a veteran can write about combat experience and say things that are
mistaken.

Is there such a thing as military culture? I suppose there is,
but it also consists of many subcultures. The overall culture is expressed in
the language and norms (legal, policy, custom). In Basic Training or Boot Camp,
everyone learns how to tell time by a 24-hour clock, express distance using the
metric system, know the rank system, follow drill commands, comply with customs
and courtesies, basic marksmanship, and so on. After that, people are trained
as one form of specialist or another, with further subdivision among
specialties by rank. But there is also an unofficial culture, one that is
oriented by woman-hating machismo, careerism, and a love of violence. Hey, most
young men don’t join the Army or Marines thinking, “Gosh oh gee, I want to
serve my nation.” Most, when you talk with them, say either “I need money for
school” or “I wanna kill people and blow shit up.”

If there is an official virtue that is reinforced in
practice in the military, it is authoritarianism coupled with unquestioning
obedience. Ethically, the military is absolutely consequentialist. Mission
accomplishment is supreme, and all other factors are subordinated to it. You
know what? Gangs and organized crime syndicates have camaraderie and
cohesiveness, too. Sometimes, we just have to leave the comfort of what we know.
Veterans are not superior in any sense
to non-veterans. We are simply veterans; and if we have certain practical
concerns in common (VA benefits, e.g.)
or certain social concerns in common (the opposition to war), we can join
together. Veterans For Peace and Iraq Veterans Against the War have done that
(though many in those organizations still cling to the “special” status of being
veterans, instead of simply serving as corrective witnesses.

Elevating the “voices of veterans” (Jeffords’ “war stories”)
and claiming special authority for “veterans” is a fundamentally reactionary
endeavor; and it will, unchecked, lead one (Pat?) to eventually embrace a
reactionary position on the subject of war (and the abandonment of any
semblance of pacifism). Because there is a contradiction at the heart of this
relation between universally valorizing the soldier/veteran and opposing war.
The veteran-as-hero, as well as the veteran-as-victim, and the
veteran-as-gnostic-knower, all fall on the side of military nationalism. The
veteran is most well-served, as is anyone, when served as the particular and whole person he or she is, not as a “protected”
or hyper-valorized category. Because the category itself is too general to be useful
except in the service of nationalism
and war.